Last Night When I Was Whispering With The Rain
by jelliclerose
Summary: Tom wakes up in the early hours of the morning to the sound of the rain on the windows and Kyle Bishop playing his piano.


This is just an idea which came to me in the middle of the Smash finale - in between tears! Just a little bit of Tom and Kyle getting some of the time together that they deserved to have had. So - please do read, hopefully enjoy and, if you feel like it, you can leave me a review :)

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Tom slowly pushed himself up in bed. He was groggy with sleep, his hair falling at absurd angles across his face, but the sound of the piano being played was drifting in through the half-open door and his curiosity won out over his aching head. Rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn, he staggered to his feet and peeked out into the hall, following the music, a slight frown creasing his features until he reached the piano room and saw the figure sitting there.  
'Well I'll be; Kyle Bishop. Isn't it past your bedtime?' Tom smiled, his eyes glinting playfully in the lamplight as he folded his arms and rested idly in the doorway. Kyle didn't stop playing, but he did reward Tom with the smallest of glances. His blue eyes were so twinkly, his smile so timid...Tom could feel his heart wheezing against his ribcage, and he was sure there was a reason this moment made no sense, but he pushed the feeling down and watched Kyle continue to play.  
'You know, you could be nicer to me. I didn't have to come here,' Kyle's voice was soft, barely more than a whisper, and there was something at the edges of it. Not tears. Not any real malice. Just...regret, perhaps. Something Tom couldn't place the cause of, and something told him he didn't want to know. The corner of Tom's lip twitched up slightly and Kyle matched his smile before looking back at the piano keys. Tom pushed himself off the doorframe and crossed the room towards him.  
'Sorry.' Kyle smirked fondly and Tom touched a hand to his shoulder. 'But it is nice to see you.' He sat down next to Kyle at the piano and Kyle shifted just enough to let him in, giving him another one of those awkwardly heartfelt smiles of his, his fingers never leaving the keys. And that was when Tom finally matched the music he'd woken up to to Kyle's fingers on the piano keys. 'Hey, I didn't know you could play,' he said suddenly, and the thought jarred him slightly, though he wasn't sure why that should be. But it seemed to jar Kyle too, as he stilled immediately, his fingers stopping, a frown forming across his boyish features.  
'I didn't either, actually...' Kyle murmured, and Tom looked at him strangely, still trying to piece together something that his brain seemed unwilling to fully communicate to him. He cupped Kyle's cheek in his hand, forcing him to meet his gaze.  
'It was beautiful, Kyle.' Kyle turned his eyes down and Tom placed a kiss to his forehead. 'Just like you.' When he pulled back, Kyle looked up at him, his blue eyes suddenly bright and dancing.  
'Actually, it was beautiful like you,' he replied. Tom moved his lips to form a protest but Kyle quickly stopped the words from coming with a soft laugh that Tom felt the vibrations of against his body and suddenly it occurred to him just how close they were sitting. Kyle's body just a slight pressure against his own, but a warm one. 'I'm serious. Don't you recognise it?' Kyle asked, leaning back slightly. The muscles of Tom's whole upper body ached at the loss of Kyle's soft weight and his heart started to creak in his ribcage again. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was sure he'd felt that ache before. But then Kyle leaned into him again and he pushed the idea away. Ridiculous. Painful. Not true. 'Hey, daydreamer?' Tom's eyes focused back on Kyle's glittery blue gaze, that same strange half-smile on those lips of his. 'This stuff's good, Tom. Why aren't you using it for anything?' Tom frowned.  
'What stuff?' Kyle rolled his eyes and picked up a jumbled collection of sheet-music from the top of the piano, waving it briefly under Tom's nose before tossing it back down.  
'That stuff. It's some of your best work...' Kyle swallowed and looked down. 'And I should know, because I spent a lot of my life listening to your stuff.' He gave a self-deprecating little shrug and rolled his eyes, before looking back up into Tom's face with a smile. 'Your music's too beautiful to be stuck on a page, Tom.'  
'That's probably the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me,' Tom murmured gazing down into Kyle's face. In return Kyle quirked an eyebrow at him, clearly sceptical, but he didn't pass comment and Tom pressed a brief kiss to his lips for that.  
'So since we're sharing...' Kyle whispered against Tom's lips.  
'Uh-oh.' Tom narrowed his eyes at Kyle, who smiled back up at him affectionately.  
'Since we're sharing...you think you want to tell me what you're doing with your life, Tom Levitt? Big-time Broadway composer.' Tom frowned but Kyle's gaze was uncharacteristically bold. 'You've got this beautiful music just sitting here and you're not doing anything with it. You've crawled under a rock these past few months, Tom. I was just wondering why.' Tom's mouth worked at trying to form a response for a moment and he looked anywhere but at Kyle. His brain was starting to relinquish some of that information it had been withholding before, bit by bit, and he wasn't sure he was ready to hear it.  
'I just...I...why would you even know that?' Kyle shrugged.  
'Because.' And to Kyle that clearly explained everything. For Tom it took a moment longer to catch the real meaning in those blue eyes, still twinkling up at him, a tinge of amber glinting somewhere in them from the combination of the lamplight and his smile.  
'You still care about me don't you.' Tom pretended there wasn't a catch in his voice when he spoke, and, kind soul that he was, Kyle pretended too. 'Since we're sharing?' Kyle raised an eyebrow and Tom touched a hand to his face, brushing his thumb along Kyle's cheek. 'I still care about you too.' For a moment they sat like that and the only sound was the rain outside and the heaviness that Tom had grown so used to feeling these days was briefly lifted from his tired body. And Kyle looked at him like he was something beautiful. And it made him want to be that person Kyle saw.

It was Kyle who broke the moment. Sighing – sighing like someone world-weary and not like the sweet smiler Tom knew him to be – he glanced away and Tom felt the heaviness come back immediately and he watched, wounded, as Kyle picked at a thread in his sleeve.  
'Your collection's grown since I was last here.' When Kyle spoke again, the forced ease in his tone caught Tom's attention immediately. He glanced in the direction Kyle had nodded his head and smiled, tipping his head in acknowledgement of the assortment of awards gathering dust atop his piano. He knew it wasn't the biggest collection in the world, but it meant something to him. He was about to make some flyaway remark when suddenly the doubt began to uncoil itself from the pit of his stomach. That aching was back again, this time with a creeping sense of realisation. His brain was starting to relinquish that information that he didn't want to know. His eyes flicked back to Kyle and his heart stuttered. How did he still look so young? Why was it suddenly so hard to breathe?  
'Kyle...when was the last time you were here?' His voice was small and frightened. And Kyle obviously heard that fear because he couldn't meet Tom's eyes, almost as though he felt it was his fault. He leant back a little and Tom felt dizzy as the sensation of Kyle's weight against him once more drifted away.  
'I guess it would be about six years ago now.' The words weren't even a whisper. They were a breath. They were a nothing. They were...they weren't even there, were they? All Tom could really hear was the sound of the rain. Six years. Six years. Tom's eyes closed and he bowed his head, taking a moment to collect himself, to steel himself. To catch his breath. He shifted closer to Kyle again then, resting his hand on his neck and opening his eyes.  
'Kyle...' He faltered and Kyle looked up at him with a glassy-eyed smile.  
'A composer and a book-writer? It would never have worked,' he sniffed out, rolling his eyes and then glancing away.  
'Oh Kyle.' Tom closed his eyes again. Kyle sucked in a deep breath and slowly blew it out. Tom felt him lean in a little closer and when he opened his eyes they met immediately with Kyle's. He could see his own reflection shifting in those blue pools.  
'That article about you...the one that you shut yourself in over...that brought up me and...'  
'Kyle.' Tom was almost pleading now, thought quite what for he didn't know.  
'Tom, that article wasn't about you, not really. I mean...it wasn't about the you I know. Or that anyone who actually knows you knows. Tom...it wasn't about you, ok? Not really. And it definitely wasn't about your music.' Kyle picked up the sheet-music from the piano and handed it to Tom. 'You need to look at this again. Because the stuff you write...it matters. It always has. But it can only matter if people can hear it.'  
'Kyle, I-'  
'I just came to tell you that, ok? Because I needed you to know.' Tom stared at him, just stared and stared. There was a memory fighting its way to the surface and Tom was forcing it down with his bare hands because this moment, this one right here, this moment had to be real, even if nothing else could be Tom wanted that to be. He felt Kyle's hand on his cheek. And he let himself be tugged gently into the kiss. His eyes closed and his own hands moved to cup Kyle's face and, for a minute, all that mattered was that Kyle's kisses tasted just how he remembered them; like lip balm and herbal tea.

When Kyle finally pulled back his smile was sad, but his eyes resolved. 'You should get some sleep.' Tom was about to argue back but Kyle simply looked back at him, steady and smiling and he found he was powerless against him.  
'This is a long overdue goodbye, Kyle Bishop.' Kyle's lips twitched up and Tom swallowed down the tears which threatened to break through. Because he'd figured it out now; that thing that his brain was telling him to forget? Kyle Bishop. Killed in a hit and run six years ago.  
'I choose to think of it more as a...see you around.' Tom sniffed and turned his eyes upwards, shaking his head a little, a small laugh escaping his throat despite it all. 'But maybe not for...another thousand songs or so, ok? I think Broadway could do with some more of your music yet.' He felt Kyle give his hand a squeeze.  
'You've got yourself a deal.' Strangled, but it was agreement, and he was smiling, somehow.  
'Now go to bed, Tom Levitt. I'm pretty sure it's past your bedtime.' Tom laughed softly and nodded, looking back at Kyle and taking him in, properly this time. Memorising the details one more time before he left. Kyle smiled and Tom couldn't resist pressing one final kiss to his forehead before he reluctantly pushed himself up off the piano bench and turned away. 'Oh, and Tom?' Tom stilled before slowly turning in the doorway. Kyle was still sitting at the piano, his blue eyes squinting slightly against the lamplight. 'I like Sam. Try and keep him around a long time, okay?' Tom smiled faintly and nodded.  
'Yeah. Okay.'

Tom woke up at 6AM to the sound of the rain. He pursed his lips and his heart rattled against his ribcage as he tasted it; lip balm and herbal tea.


End file.
